Swallowing Sour
by eruiggy
Summary: No one ever choked to death swallowing his pride.


Opening Remarks:

I am not associated with and nor do I own Ben10 or any related content. Heavens t'Betsey if I did—all of the angry hate mail regrading continuity errors and Ben's nonsensical character development would be directed to _me_.

Takes place after "Duped." Watching the episode "Ben 10,000" from the original series will really help, too. Author's note at the bottom because I don't want to give any spoilers.

* * *

The hooded figure sighed as it shuffled around in the dark room, gathering materials. A shattering of glass punctuated the dusty silence. The figured let out a hiss and sucked on her torn finger. Oh, he had better appreciate all she did for him! With her unharmed hand, she flipped through her well-worn book. Stupid thing. Only half of the articles in it had any factual base. She had felt a little silly digging through her old treasures—she had long since learned that they meant nothing—but she knew that what she needed was within the pages. If saving the world meant going through box after box of old knickknacks, then the end result was well worth the effort. That is what her practical side told her pride, in any case. The hooded woman glanced at her bloody finger. This really should not be so difficult—it was baby magic, and her second time to do it, at that. Or, rather, it was her first attempt; it all depended on the perspective.

Ah, and here it was! She finally found the page that would either lead her to victory, or utter destruction. What she was about to do did not sit entirely well with her conscience. Nothing about her. . . deed. . . fit the bill for ethical. But it was necessary. Necessary for those she loved—necessary for the world, it could be argued. So, perhaps, her actions were justified.

She sighed again—now due to the fact that to this was how things had resorted. Truly pathetic. Was everyone else really so incompetent?

Dumb question. What had happened is what had happened. The situation had boiled down to this, and nothing else mattered.

Only, what had happened. . . did not have to happen. It would not be the first incident where the future had been rewritten. Yet, it would, perhaps, be the only time. Or, maybe, it would have never been rewritten at all. Once again, it was all in perspective—the vantage point, or the universe, from which the subject was being observed. She moved her hands in a circular motion, speaking in some otherworldly tongue:

"_Nam siht ekam ot ecnahc erom eno tsuj niaga nigeb etirwer kcab_."

Her venture must go as smoothly as possible. If she was seen, or stopped—or if anything, _anything_, went wrong, there would be chaos. And, it would be on her own head. Her fault, and no heroes to help right the world. The air where she had been motioning began to shimmer. The light grew, and grew, until before the figure floated a portal.

Hands shaking, she took a breath and reached through it.

* * *

He was all that she thought about and it made her angry. Everything reminded her of him. Every. Little. Object. She never knew if she wanted to destroy them, or cry.

Benjamin Tennyson, a fool of her did he make! She was angry—humiliated. But most of all, she was hurt.. She had tolerated all of his nonsense—from schoolwork to aliens. Why could he not sit through a simple tennis tournament for her? And she was not upset about him missing her match. Saving the world (or, at least Bellwood), she understood. But making an ass of himself when he was there, then ditching for a movie that _she_ wanted to see as well? He got points for honesty, but. . . . Julie Yamamoto grit her teeth. They did not nearly compare to the points deducted for his, his. . . general ass-ery. Argh! Benjamin Tennyson. It was his fault. His fault that she could not think straight enough to come up with a proper adjective, just like it was his fault that she was alone on a Friday night.

Julie stomped down the street, not even pausing to look at her mussed reflection as she passed shop windows. To be fair, she had plenty of girlfriends that she could call up on a moment's notice. Her life did not revolve around _Benjamin Tennyson_. She pulled out her phone and scanned her contact list. _Ally, Annie, Ashley, Becca, Bindy, Casey, Cathy, Cecilia_. . .Gwen. . . She clicked the mobile shut. Everything. Everything. Everything had to remind her.

Lost in tempered thought, the sudden tap on her shoulder made her jerk and turn. Julie welcomed the distraction.

"Nicole! Hey, girl! What are you up to?"

The christened Nicole laughed. "Pretending to have a life."

"Oh, what happened?"

"Boyfriend ditched. Sat waiting at the theater for over half an hour until I decided to leave." She jerked her head. "Walked to the end of the block, and guess who I see after I turn the corner?" Julie flinched.

"Yeah." Nicole continued, "Said boyfriend with unknown blonde tramp." Nicole gave a sad smile. "But you don't have to deal with that crap. You and that Tennyson guy, all cutesy and perfect." Julie could not form a coherent response, and so chose to clamp her lips. Her silence accidentally cued the end of the conversation, causing Nicole to give a small wave and take her leave. Too lost in reverie, Julie took no notice.

Who was she kidding? Yes, at the moment, her life just _did _revolve around one Benjamin Tennyson. Not that she would admit it—verbally. She knew that she would go back to him, maybe even before he came crawling to her. But she had to let him suffer, first.

Or maybe she would not. Maybe it was over. Did she really need to get involved in his drama, anyway? She did not have any powers. All she had was an alien pet that was not even around sometimes. Maybe she was in over her head after all.

What she had come to terms with was that she did not hate Ben. She could not hate Ben, not even if she had tried. But it was still betrayal. After every heartache, every worry, ever sacrifice she had suffered through. . . She had hoped that he would have been a little more thoughtful, a little more mature, just this once. That he may not reciprocate her feelings cut deeply. That she ranked so low on his priority list. . . It stung, and she felt led on. She knew that Ben meant something to her. He meant more than just a teenage fling. Ben was special, and she really had thought that they shared something together. No, she could not let go of him just yet. That she constantly replayed their moments together in her mind—wet frustration welled up in her eyes—proved that she was no where near a sate in which she could get over him.

At the heart of the matter, she did not know what to do.

But that did not matter, because the hand that grabbed her arm and pulled her through a swirling vortex decided for her.

* * *

Being kidnapped and forced to ride through a mysterious, swirling vortex can take a lot out of a girl, which was why Julie was currently unconscious. It did not, however, give a fully satisfactory explanation as to why she was now sprawled in a field of sun-warmed grass, when, moments before, she had been cruising through the cemented sidewalks of Bellwood's night life. And by night life she meant shopping. And by shopping she meant for clothes and other oddities, not prostitution—just to avoid any mistaken inferences from a fairly straightforward (nigh, run-on) sentence which held absolutely no intended implications. Julie also liked grammar, and, in her now slightly conscious mind, was giving English lessons to an imaginary audience, in the same manner that people often babble in their sleep.

Inaudible or not, whoever it was yammering in those high pitched voices certainly needed a lesson or two in English.

"We should wait for Grandpa. We don't know who she is, or. . ."

"Come _on. _What if she wakes up? Let's stay with her."

"Drawing mustaches on someone when they're unconscious doesn't count as 'staying with them.'"

"Aheheh. Well, she asked for it, falling asleep in the middle of nowhere—"

"Look," the first voice interrupted. "She's starting to wake up! I just saw her move a little."

"Aw, and I was having so much fun."

Julie struggled to open her eyelids, the sudden glare of sun blinding her. A groan loosed itself from her lips. Two orbs bobbled above her face. One of them asked, "Miss?" She blinked furiously and when she attempted to sit upright, the orbs flew away. She shook her head to clear it, then looked around at her company.

The two orbs in question were two children—a boy and a girl. The boy was looking at her with a curious intent, but the girl just looked worried and a little miffed. Each of the sides studied the other for a while before the boy spoke.

"Who're you?" he brusquely asked, hand hovering over his wrist.

Julie hesitated before answering. "Ah, could you, um, tell me where I am, first?" The boy and the girl looked at each other, eyebrows raised. It was the girl who replied.

"We're just past the New Mexico state line."

"_What?_"

"You don't even know where you are?" The boy laughed. "How did you even get here, then?"

"I. . . honestly have no idea." She smiled warmly at him.

The boy stared at her for a moment with big green eyes before blurting, "I'm Ben and this is Gwen. Before you ask, we're _not_ related."

"Ben!" Scowling, the girl hissed, "You can't just give out information like that! We shouldn't even be talking to strangers in the first place. You know how Grandpa gets. . ."

"Oh, you're one to talk, you big—"

"What's your name, anyway?" Julie puckered her cheeks, not really wanting to converse with any children possessing such bratty attitudes. But, she was at a disadvantage. Ignoring her growing headache, she looked around, and gave a start. Right in her line of vision was a very ugly, very _familiar_ vehicle. Hah, it was a little funny how much it resembled. . . . She looked back at two pairs of suddenly familiar green eyes. O_h, my. . . ._

"Ben‽ Oh, uh. . ." The children stared at her. Julie bit her lip. She did not have any idea as to what was going on, but she did realize that giving out any information about herself may not be prudent. "Lee. . . . uh. Yeah. Benlee. Benlie!"

Ben and Gwen both made faces. "Benlie?" Ben mocked. "That's a weird name." Gwen rolled her eyes at him.

Julie nodded fervently. "Yes, Benlie. My name is Benlie."

"Well, uh, Benlie, what happened to you?" Gwen asked.

"_Well_. . . I'm afraid I don't know the answer to that, either."

"For serious?"

"Are you hurt?"

"That's kinda awesome!"

"We should find Grandpa. . ."

Ben made a face at Gwen. "Grandpa's not back yet, doofus." Gwen looked uncertainly at Julie when he mentioned his Grandpa's absence. "And anyway, Heatblast Tag needs three players to play it. Duh."

"Ben! She doesn't want to play a stupid game with you! We don't even know what she's been through—"

Julie stopped paying attention to their actual words, and just sat back and absently observed the two children before her. She had absolutely no clue as to what was going on or why it was happening in the first place. It was probably all some crazy dream, stemming from her longing for her boyfriend and her best friend and a convergence of stories that she had heard about their childhood adventures. Be that the case, she decided that she should just make the best of it. She had a chance to spend time with a Ben that had not yet hurt her. Even at this age he was, as it had come very apparent, extremely thoughtless and immature—and so was Gwen, in her own way. It was a side of Gwen that laid latent when it was just her and Julie. And thus, sometimes it was easy to forget that Gwen was far less than perfect. She always seemed so poised and elegant, wise and decisive. Gwen's problem was that she was very much aware of her strengths, and very insecure about her weaknesses. Her temper almost rivaled that of Kevin. _And_, Julie thought as a particularly high-pitched screech pierced her ears, _very self righteous_. But those were parts of Gwen that Julie had come to accept with their friendship. In turn, Julie was sure that Gwen did the same for her.

Julie mentally shook herself, and focused on the other child in front of her. She knew that she could not just ignore Ben. Dream or not, he was just a kid. She decided to break up the argument.

"What if we play hide and seek? I don't think I'm too tired for that." Ben and Gwen gaped at her, then shared a devious look with one another. Before Julie could fathom why, the two had already jumped upright and were running in opposite directions.

"You're the seeker!" Ben yelled behind him. Julie just grinned, closed her eyes, and began to count.

"One, two," she giggled. "Three, four, five, sixseveneightnineten! Ready or not, here I come!" She felt a little silly, but the innocence of the game was refreshing. Brushing off her skirt, she stood and looked around. She sighed, still attempting to repress the urge to freak. She started towards the right, navigating around the low shrubs. The air felt like spring or summer, so there was plenty of green to camouflage a small person. Still, the New Mexico shrubland did not offer many places to hide, and she did not think that Gwen would let Ben wander off too far away. But then, when had that ever stopped him? Her lips pursed, not wanting to follow that line of thought.

A flash of red caught her eye and she slowly crept closer to it. She paused, pretending to consider the opposite direction. Julie held her breath, and the silence revealed the sound of light breathing. With unexpected agility, she sprung, landing atop the hider. Gwen squealed, half in surprise and half in merriment. Julie threw her arms around the girl and laughed. "Got you!"

When they stood, Gwen was smiling as well. In reality—or the future—or whatever—Gwen was her friend, and it made Julie feel better to have gained a little of this Gwen's trust. She said, "Well, what do you say we go find your cousin?" Gwen frowned.

"How did you know that we're cousins?" _Oh, chili cheese fries_. Julie bit her lip. How to excuse her blunder?

"Oh, er, despite what Ben said, I could tell you guys were related. You don't look or act enough like siblings," a total lie, she knew. "So I thought it made sense that you were cousins." She nervously picked at her fingers behind her back.

Gwen nodded, accepting the explanation. "Yeah, we're like, totally different. He's such a _dweeb_. I seriously think he was adopted sometimes." She rolled her eyes—something Julie noticed that she did often—and linked arms with the older girl.

"You don't get along?"

"Uh, no! He's always taking my stuff, getting me in trouble, and just being _gross_."

"Oh, I would have thought you guys would be friends, being so close in age and all."

"Yeah, right. When we get back home, we will have _nothing_ to do with each other." Interesting. So how did they become practically attached at the hip? Maybe they matured more than she had thought. Gwen tilted her head sideways and asked, "How old are you, by the way?"

"I just turned sixteen a little while back."

"That is_ so_ cool. Can you drive? Do you have a car? What about makeup—ahah, not that you need it, I mean—I bet you're really popular."

"Er. ."

"Do you have a boyfriend?" Julie came to a halt. She really did not have an answer to that.

"At the moment, I don't know." Gwen looked at her, wide-eyed.

"What do you mean? Did you have a fight or something?"

"Or something. I'd rather not talk about it."

"OK." An uncomfortable silence followed. Julie, feeling awkward, broke it.

"So, what about you? I mean, you're a little young to be dating, but is there a certain someone you're crushing on?" Gwen blushed.

"N-no. But Ben is! It's so pathetic."

"Yeah?"

"She wouldn't give him the time of day. She just liked his—uh, his watch. He's a total loser."

"Really?"

"Uh-huh. Mom says that he's always getting in trouble for disrupting class. And I _know_ he gets bullied."

"Surely he has some friends. . ."

"Oh, he does. Just not _cool_ friends. Not like _you_." Julie chuckled.

"Well, being popular isn't everything. Some things are more important." Gwen looked incredulous.

"Like _what_?" Julie studied the younger girl for a moment.

"I know this may sound like a broken record, but I think you'll understand when you're older." She looked around. "Any idea where Ben might be hiding?" Gwen shrugged.

They eventually stumbled upon Ben, who was reclining in the grass with his feet propped against the Rust Bucket. He cracked open an eye and looked at them.

"Geez, you guys took_ forever_. I got bored and quit _ages_ ago. What were you doing to her, Gwen? Boring her to death with your bragging?" Gwen glared at him.

"For your information, doofus, we were having a grown up conversation. You wouldn't have understood it."

"Yeah, well—"

"Hey!" Julie intervened. "Let's just find something else to do, alright?" Gwen shot a superior look at Ben.

"I have a boardgame! I'll go in and get it—just give me a sec." Ben and Julie watched as Gwen ran up the stair into the RV, Ben shouting protests ("boring old boardgame!") after her. A little apprehensive, Julie sat down next to Ben. He did not look her in the eye and instead fiddled with the object strapped to his wrist. Very little was different about this Ben and, well, her Ben. Still green-eyed, bashful, and full of bravado. And adorable. Nothing on the planet was more adorable than a ten-year-old Ben, she had to admit. She scooted a little closer to him and he let out a false baritone cough. Make that _brimming_ with bravado. He spoke, still not looking directly at her.

"So, like, where are you from and stuff?" She laughed lightly.

"Not anywhere near here. What about you? Do you live here?" In no way did she plan on revealing what she knew, even if it was just a dream. It would be too complicated to bother explaining.

"Nah. Me and Gwen are hanging with Grandpa for the summer, just traveling from place to place."

"That sounds like fun."

"Sometimes." He rolled over on his side and faced her, propping his head on his hand. "But you want to know a secret?"

"Yes?" He studied her, then opened his mouth as if to speak. Closing it again, he looked over to the RV and said:

"Maybe I'll tell you, maybe I won't." With that, he rolled over again and stood, just looking at her. She stared back.

She tilted her chin up and said, "So, tell me about you and Gwen. What do you do when you're not traversing the nation?" Ben looked a little puzzled, but then sat down next to her, copying her style. He rubbed the back of his head.

"Well, I'm a little leaguer."

"You any good?"

"You bet!"

"What about Gwen?" He looked disgusted.

"She does everything. Stuck-up know-it-all. That's why nobody likes her."

"Surely you like her? You're related." Ben gave her a funny look.

"Whatever."

Changing the subject, she said, "I play tennis." Ouch. Painful topic. Maybe she should have steered away from sports. It did work in cheering him, however. The irony did not elude her.

"Really? That's pretty cool. Do you like Sumo Slammers?" Her stomach flip-flopped. She was saved from answering—and pondering the subject further—by Gwen clanging down the steps.

"Found it!" she called. Stepping onto the ground, she looked at Ben, then she looked at Gwen and back again. She smirked.

"Ben, you go get us some snacks while we set up." Ben looked as if he was about to go tell his cousin to stuff it. Julie smiled at him, and he just turned and went inside in reply.

Gwen whispered to her, "He's got it _bad_ for you, the lame-o." Julie raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

The girls had just finished setting up when Ben returned with a bag of chips and three cans of soda. Gwen sneered at him.

"What took you so long? You weren't in there eating everything good, were you? Because if you touched my—"

"Ah, can it."

"Ben," Julie admonished. To be hanging out with her possibly ex-boyfriend and her best friend, she was reminded an awful lot of when she would babysit. It made sense, given that they were currently ten years old. For a boring old boardgame, the trio was having a lot of fun. Maybe it was Julie's presence, but the cousins had yet to have to be physically separated. None of them paid much attention when the family sized bag of chips was tossed aside, empty, nor did any of them notice the sun slowly sinking. Only a call off in the distance interrupted their fun.

"Ben! Gwen! Come over here, kids. You won't believe the agave clusters I've found!"

Ben and Gwen shared a look. Ben explained, "Grandpa Max is back from gathering weird 'ingredients.'"

"Come with us. We'll introduce you," Gwen said. The children started off towards their Grandpa Max, and Julie stood to follow.

Just before she could catch up with their strides, she felt something grab her shoulder.

She knew no more.

* * *

"Ya know, if me and her got married, we would be Ben and Ben Tennyson."

"Could you be any more pathetic?"

* * *

Julie shook her head, more than a little confounded. She looked around at unfamiliar surroundings. _Again_? She seemed to have landed in some sort of penthouse or high rise apartment. A stumble over to a nearby window confirmed her guess. Closer examination revealed that the apartment belonged to a family: reading glasses on a coffee table and action figures scattered on the floor.

"Honey?" Julie spun around to see a buff looking male figure standing in the doorway. The figure walked into the room. "Wow! Julie, I know you said that you were getting a major makeover, but you look years younger." His face scrunched. "More like decades. Wow. I. . . kinda feel like a pedophile. Please undo it."

Julie stared, incredulous. "Ben. . .?" She looked at the tell-tale ultamatrix on his wrist.

He came a little closer and squinted at her. "Why've you got a mustache?" Confused, she said nothing. The man who was quite possibly Ben studied her a moment longer. Suddenly, he jumped back and grabbed a floor lamp, brandishing it at her.

"Who are you and what do you want‽"

"I—"

"They've finally exploited my weakness! They all know," he moaned. "They all know that I could never harm anything resembling my love—even if it is wearing a false mustache!"

"_What_—"

"I'll just settle for tying you up before I drag you to the penitentiary." He started to dive towards her, using the lamp as a lance.

"Ben, wait!" He stopped, relaxing enough to turn and look at the woman who just entered, but still held the lamp near Julie's face. "What on earth are you doing to that poor. . ." Ben moved aside, and the woman trailed off when she saw Julie's face. "Oh, my. . ." Her face hardened. She looked at Ben, then said icily to Julie: "If you are here to harm any of my loved ones, I will see to it personally that you_ will suffer and know nothing else for the rest of all eternity_. State your identity and business."

Julie gaped openly at the elegant woman before her. The cold stares finally got to Julie, and she gulped, realizing that they were expecting an answer from her _now_. It was only a dream, but Julie was pretty sure that this was the scariest, most real nightmare she had ever had. Honesty felt like the best policy in this scenario.

"Um, well, my name is Julie Yamamoto. I'm. . . not really sure where I am or how I got here." Julie rubbed the back of her head, flushing.

The woman spoke, piercing Julie with her eyes. "Can you prove this?" Julie tilted her head in thought.

"How? I-I mean, I have my bus pass, but I don't know if that will—"

"Let me see it." Julie reached into her small pocket, and pulled out her bus pass—the only thing that would fit in her pocket with her cell phone. When she held it out towards the couple, they visibly flinched. The woman gingerly took the card from her—as if expecting an attack—and examined it. The woman let out a breath, but did not soften her expression. She looked up, and gave Julie the soul-searching look again. "One more thing. I need you to tell me. . ." She lowered her voice. "What did you drop during your eighth grade history presentation on Lincoln?" Julie's jaw was almost detached from her face.

"How did you. . . !"

"Just answer the question." Julie blushed.

"My training bra," she said quietly. "It was too big and had been sliding down all day. It just fell. . . I blamed Shelby Whitaker when people saw it. She never protested."

"You _are_ me," the woman breathed. Ben burst out laughing. Julie continued to stare. This strong, sophisticated woman. . . was_ herself_? "Still, to be sure, we're going to run you under a bio scan." Ben nodded.

"I think that's the safest course of action." Julie herself—that is, the younger Julie—thought that complying would be _her _safest course of action, despite being unsure as to what a bio scan was. Besides, it was all a dream, right? It had been fairly pleasant so far, she tried to calm herself. She was just trying to avoid turning it into a nightmare. Ben left to retrieve the mysterious scanner, leaving Julie and herself alone.

Wow. That sounded weird, even by dream logic.

Trying to abate the creepy atmosphere, Julie made a shot in the dark at friendliness. "So, since you're my future self or something. . . what should I call you? Referring to you as 'me,' or even 'Julie,' feels a little odd."

The older Julie smiled. "I understand. How about we refer to you as Julie, and me as Mrs. Tennyson?" Julie started and choked. _Shocked _would not aptly describe what Julie felt. Horrified? Pleased? Maybe a little hopeful? None of those worked alone. She tried to keep herself from hyperventilating. It was just a dream; not real. Only a dream. . .

She managed a weak, "Pardon?"

"Identity confirmed. DNA sample belonging to Tennyson, Julie Yamamoto." The mechanical voice startled Julie out of a daze. The girls turned to look at the newly arrived Ben, who was standing a few feet away holding a small device.

"Well," he said. "There's only one thing to do, now." Husband and wife both looked at Julie, the two now pleasant in demeanor. "Let's eat dinner!"

At his words, Julie's stomach rumbled. The chips and soda felt like ages ago. The Tennysons laughed and Julie blushed as she followed them into the kitchen. Her older self guided her to a seat at a round table. The kitchen was on the small side, but, as far as Julie could tell, everything looked clean and up to date. It looked futuristic, anyway. Mrs. Tennyson placed flatware and a napkin in front of Julie, then shuffled over to what Julie assumed was a stove.

"May I help with anything?" Mr. And Mrs. Tennyson—it blew her mind to think of them as such—waved away her offer and told her to relax. Ben, who was sitting across from Julie, leaned on the table propped his face on his hand.

"You said you don't know how you got here?" Julie shook her head no. "Hmm. What can you tell us?" Mrs. Tennyson was look at her curiously, as well.

"Ah, this might sound a little crazy, but. . ." And she launched into a recount of all she had gone through that day. She left out anything not _directly _pertaining to the day's events, especially her current relationship with the real Ben. When she finished, the couple looked bemused. "But it's alright. I mean, it's all a dream, anyway." She shrugged. Older Ben and older Julie shared a look.

"Well, Julie," Mrs. Tennyson said. "What happens next is completely up to you. You can either wait around here until you're transported elsewhere or wake up. . ." Julie was about to protest the overwhelming hospitality, but the woman continued. "Or, we could help you find a way back to your home."

"If my opinion counts for anything, I think you should wait here," Ben said. Julie looked at him to further explain. "Have you considered that there might be a reason for your being here?" Julie was mildly surprised. The usually shrewd girl had been too overwhelmed to contemplate any deeper meaning involved in her situation.

"That's a good point. Can you think of anything you learned from your visit to the past?" Mrs. Tennyson added. Julie thought about it for a good moment.

"I. . . guess it allowed me to see another side to my friends. Or, at least, better understand what I already saw."

Mrs. Tennyson nodded. "That's a possibility."

"But if that's the case, why wasn't Kevin included? Or anyone else, for that matter?"

Ben pursed his lips, coming up with nothing. "Well, maybe it'll all make sense later. You might be missing a piece you need for it all to come together. Just give it time." He looked at his watch. "Speaking of which, Ken should be home by now."

"Ken?"

Ben and his wife shared a tender look. The non-verbal discussions were really starting to grate on Julie's nerves. They made her feel as if she was intruding on a private conversation. Ben answered.

"Our ten-year-old son." Julie stopped breathing. "Which means he is still subject to the rules of this household, and will be in _mundo_ trouble for missing curfew." Ben directed his last sentence to the boy who had been attempting to sneak through the doorway. When Julie looked at the boy, something inside her nearly broke and it was all she could do to contain it. He was the most beautiful blend of herself and Ben: big green eyes, fair skin, and messy brown hair all perfectly arranged on a slim build. "And where have you been?"

The boy tossed his head in a fashion Julie supposed was still rampant. "I was hanging with Devin at Aunt Gwen and Uncle Kevin's. Mom dropped me off, remember?" His mother frowned.

"Yes, but I thought that we had an understanding that you were mature enough to fly home on your own—and on time." She sighed. "Sit down and eat, supper's ready. But don't think you're getting off easy, young man. I'm calling Gwen about this tomorrow and then your father and I are going to dish out one heck of a punishment, believe you me." The boy grumbled a bit, but did as she said and plopped down at the table next to Julie.

"Who're you?" She opened her mouth, but her older self answer for her.

"She's my cousin's daughter, ah. . . Ben. . .lie. They had to come to town for a bit and, ah, Benlie will be staying with us as long as she likes." Julie held back a snort, pondering her own originality. Ken turned to Julie.

"Benlie? That's a weird name." Oh, definitely his father's child. Unfortunately, none of Julie's snark made it past her lips. Her body had not yet recovered from the shock of _seeing her future child _by the boy who broke her heart. Ken was a little creeped out by her constant, blank stare.

"Ri-ight. Uh, Mom? What's for dinner?"

"It's vegetarian night. Vegetable lasagna with garlic bread and a salad—yes, you have to have a little salad, too," she added in response to his disgusted expression.

"Why can't we have meat? Carl and Sandra aren't coming to dinner, so why does it matter?"

"They made a good argument for giving up meat one night a week. Quit fussing, hun. You know this, we do it every week." Ken grumbled. His mother sighed and set the bread platter on the table. "Why are you so upset? You _like_ lasagna."

He shrugged, tracing patterns on the table with his finger. The woman poked her son, and said, "Hey, we'll have pizza tomorrow. How 'bout that?" At this, Ken's face lit up and he flashed his mother a grin.

"OK."

Ben stretched out his arms and looked fondly at his son. "How was school today?" Ken's face darkened again.

"Can we talk about it later?"

Concerned, Ben asked, "What happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it. Can we change the subject?" Mrs. Tennyson mouthed something that Julie could not decipher at her husband, and he nodded. The conversation seemed to pick up after this, and Julie eventually joined in, laughing along with the family. Just like when she was with the younger Ben and Gwen, she felt an odd sense of belonging.

* * *

It was full belly and a content heart with which Julie sat on the Tennysons' armchair a good hour and a half later. Mrs. Tennyson was washing dishes in the kitchen, and Ben was playing a game of cards with his son. Julie watched them with half-lidded eyes. She very rarely caught her own Ben in soft, warm moments like this. Whatever it was inside her that broke earlier had been collected for firewood, and a small flame had been lit in its place. She had no idea what it was, but she reveled in the feeling. Knowing that she was safe, she curled herself and began to drift into sleep. She did not dream.

* * *

A gentle shake woke her some time later. In the darkness, she could tell it was Ben, and saw what must have been her older self's silhouette behind him.

"We have a guest room you might be more comfortable in. Can you stand?" With Ben's help, she managed to get out of the chair and stand. She rubbed her eyes and yawned, then nodded. Although it was to dark to really tell, the couple seemed to be smiling.

She followed them through the living room and down a long hallway before they stopped in front of a door. Ben placed his hand on a square—a scanner, Julie assumed—and the door lit up and slid open. He turned to her and said, "If you need anything, let us know. We're just down the hall." They left, and Julie headed into the room.

A red-headed woman was standing in the center of the room. The woman motioned for Julie to come closer, and she complied, not sparing a look behind her. Julie began to ask a question, but the woman cut her of with a gesture to her lips. _Be silent_. Then the woman turned away from her and started to wave her arms wildly, quickly muttering words that Julie did not understand.

A flare of blinding light appeared.

* * *

"_Blech!_" Vomit spattered all over the concrete. Already in a crouched position, Julie leaned backwards and ignored the pain when she landed on her backside. She wiped her mouth on her sleeve. Looking around, her surrounding were unfamiliar. A park, or something. Not in Bellwood.

Something, some sound of movement, caught her attention. It sounded like it was only a couple of feet or so away—maybe behind the bushes. Bird? Nothing made sense. She stumbled over to investigate. Only thing to do.

Unsteady on her feet, she reached out hand—only for it to be knocked aside by a bloody gauntlet. She backwheeled and wobbled, falling again on her back. Out of the bushes rose a battered suit of armor.

"A Forever Knight?" she whispered, recognizing the ghastly faceplate and coat of arms. For a moment, nothing happened, and then he began to lurch towards her.

Years of tennis practice came into effect, sending a rush of adrenaline through her veins. She stayed where she was, waiting for him to come closer. Just as he reached to grab her, she thrust the balls of her feet into his lower stomach, propelling him back a few steps. She had just enough time to stand before he charged straight towards her again. Blurred vision showing her double, she jabbed blindly—and missed.

The knight took the advantage and landed a blow to her back. She rolled. Jerked up in a crouched position. Caught her breath. Then she popped, and managed to catch his punch with a hooking block. She countered with an effective palmheel strike.

Very effective. The blood-rusted helmet was jolted off his head, leaving crucial body parts exposed. Exposed to Julie's fist.

A well-aimed punch put the guy out of consciousness. She hoped, anyway. She was just glad that, before he went at her, he was already in a bad state.

She was beginning to think a little more normally. Mind still had not totally cleared yet. Julie checked her pocket for her cell phone. Good, it had, through it all, remained in her pocket.

_Argh_. No service. No way to contact anyone. Logically, the next step was to figure out where she was so that she could get the heck away. She was recalled the adage "hug a tree and wait," but a quick look around convinced her to throw it out the window. Like she wanted to sit and wait for tin-head to wake up and try to shank her—or whatever he was trying to do—again.

The best course of action was to just continue walking. Judging from the sky, it was not too late for people to be out and about. She would have to come across someone, eventually.

About five minutes of staggering down the concrete path, Julie began to notice scorch marks. On the trees, on the leaves, and on the grass; she did not pay much heed to them at first. But as they became larger and fresher, the more visible the marks were in the darkness. She strayed from the sidewalk to examine a particularly large one. She gasped.

Concealed by the fading sun and the black of the burns, blood spatters were littered everywhere. Fairly fresh, still sticky and beginning to coagulate. Further scrutinization of the spatters and burns betrayed a faint pattern. Slowly, she followed it, her steps light.

With some hesitance, she pushed back the branches of a full-sized bush.

"Ahh!" A body fell towards her, only missing her because she had jumped back in surprise.

Heart pounding, she moved closer to the body. She now only had moonlight to see by, but the silhouette of armor confirmed one thing about the body. More Forever Knights, this way. She stepped gingerly around him, not wanting to alert him to her presence if, by some chance, he was still alive.

She doubted it.

Pushing on through the bushes, she found the source of whatever had occurred. Destruction, everywhere. Blackened trees, strewn tree limbs. Kevin Levin.

Wait, Kevin?

Julie ran forward, elated to see a familiar face from her own time. Just as Kevin turned to look at her with an expression just as surprised as her own, an arm intercepted her.

"Hi, Ben."

"What are you _doing_ here‽" he bellowed.

Meekly, she said, "Now's not the best time." Ben flinched as a thud sounded behind them and Gwen shouted.

"We'll talk about it later." She nodded, too dazed by everything that had occurred to care if he saw. "Are you alright?"

He looked at her, and said in an eerily subdued voice, "I've been fighting aliens since I was ten, Julie."

Julie felt guilty for not having not helped in some way. Yet, she knew there was little that she could have done, sprayed with blood and vomit, horribly confused, dizzy, and just generally not in her right mind. Bile climbed up her throat. Utterly useless against a bunch of wackjobs in armor. She looked around, the feeling of helplessness doing nothing to diminish the fog in her mind.

She had witnessed their fights—taken part in them, even—time and time before, yes. But never with . . . these. . . eyes. Her eyes widened. "_Oh_." And suddenly, the entire day made sense. Whether it was real, a mad hallucination, or a dream sent by a guardian angel did not matter; she knew what she should do.

She understood what he meant, although she would rather that she did not. Innocence only lasted as long as ignorance; for the sake of sanity, he had to pretend.

And she would let him, consequences be damned.

She looked down at his arm. "We should get you to a hospital." He shrugged and toed at the ground.

"Don't worry about it. Gwen's a pretty good hand at first aid."

Smelly, disheveled, and still sporting a marker mustache, she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "I'm sorry," she said. He stared at her, uncomprehending, and she continued, "But not as sorry as you _better_ be, got it?"

Stunned, he could only nod.

* * *

"_For just one hour, if we could find a way to get inside each other's mind_," Gwendolyn Levin hummed to herself as she brushed her sleeping son's hair.

* * *

Closing Notes:

If I have to explain what I meant—what message I was trying to send—then I did not do a good job telling my story. Also, it was pretty much an anger-driven response to both the series and fandom. Having read a bunch of . . . . scary. . . Ben characterizations about a month ago, I wanted to vindicate him. Or at least vindicate fanfiction-I've kinda been scared off fanfiction since.

This is not a story about Julie.

This is about Ben.

I don't think that any more needs to be said.

Constructive criticism is appreciated. . . Although, I would honestly rather you just tell me how wonderful and beautiful I am. (I know you can't see me, but just say it anyway.)

Began: May 29, 2010

Completed: June 4, 2010


End file.
